Elegiac
by KittyAttack
Summary: Life is short. You live, you love, you hate, and you fall apart, before you eventually die. She wasn't supposed to die. She loved her, and yet she went and died anyways. Character death, sorrow, tragedy, rated 'T' for slight blood and gore.


_**'Elegiac'**_

_- (adj) expressing sorrow often for something past_

**A/N: **This is NOT a happy story. I warn you in advance. This is completely different from the happy stories I usually write. "Cuz like, this one time, at band camp" - I started this story. I was bored, didn't want to sleep, was listening to my, at the time, favorite song, and boom, here this is. Plus, I think this was birthed because I was kinda in a relationship clusterfuck with an ex, and it was kinda messed up at the time. It's a little better now...but nunya'll wanna hear it. Anywho.

For some random reason, it wouldn't save my tabs. So I'm sorry there's no tabs; it ticks me off. Urgh. *wall punch!*

I **strongly** suggest that you listen to _"White Sparrows" _by Billy Talent while listening to this song. It fits exactly, and it's the song I was listening to when I made it. Please. Listen. At the very least, look at the lyrics. The song sets the mood, but I _suppose _you can feel the connection through the ly- hell, who am I kidding? Listen to the song, or you won't _feel _the story. Anywho, I'm done now.

**DISCLAIMER: **_I, in no shape or form, own Azumanga Daioh. If I did, I'd have a lot more money than I do now. Sadly, I don't own "White Sparrows" either. I don't have the godly voice that Billy Talent does. Nor "Everytime We Touch" by Cascada._

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><p>She couldn't believe it. She dressed that day, in all black, even drove herself to the small area in which it was held. She surrounded herself with old friends, people who were her <em>family<em>. Whispers passed into her ears, flitting around her brain before dancing out the other ear. Dull eyes stared blankly at the box in front of her, never wavering even as her friends begged her to speak to them.

She would never be able to handle the fact that _she _was dead. _She_ was her life, her love, her everything. Even as they began speaking about _her_,_ her _achievements, as friends spoke words about their high school life and beyond, fond memories cradled deep within weeping hearts.

It would never be the same. Finally, when the casket was lowered slowly into the ground, did she break. Tears almost literally poured down her face as she fell to her knees, splashing into mud from the previous nights rain. She screamed, hands clawing at her short hair as she gasped for breath, tears refusing to show any sign of slowing down. Her friends were on her immediately, cradling her with warm arms and almost equally broken hearts. She wrapped herself in them, much as a baby would curl into it's mother whenever scared.

_ She_ just couldn't be gone. It wasn't possible. There were no fireworks signaling _her _death, no fanfare as _she _finally passed to join herself on the other side. _That's_ how it was supposed to be, she was supposed to wait for _her_ on the other side, not the other way around. Instead, there was nothing, nothing but the silence of her empty screams and the sound of death.

_ The night _she _died, _she _was smiling. It was their anniversary, April 11th. The younger of the two screeched in laughter as rain pelted them from above, intertwining fingers with _her_ lover as _she_ dragged them under the canopy over the diner entrance. A year had passed, each day filled with limitless happiness._

_ Each was dressed with a simple blouse and pants, though one looked much more awkward than the other. But _she_ didn't care. _She _only laughed in the heartwarming way _she _always did, encircling _her_ girlfriend lovingly around the waist before dragging her by the wrist into the diner behind them. It was the one they both agreed to begin dating at, long before she joined her college class. The summer previous, to pinpoint. The name, _"Finer Diner"_,_ _rung in her ears as it slipped off _her_ tongue, the flashy neon sign forever painting picture behind lidded eyes._

She shivered; she wasn't sure who, but someone had given her a jacket to block out the chilly fall air. "Probably Chiyo," she thought, biting her lip as stray tears slipped from her red-rimmed eyes.

_ They sat that day, _The Final Day_, relaxed and cheerful; a cheeseburger sat in front of _her_, a small salad in front of herself. Though it was dinner, dark outside, neither wanted a very big meal. These were _their_ seats; they always sat here, never anywhere else. The waiters and waitresses long since known where they sat, and usually what they got. Sauce and grease dripped from _her_ face, leaving the other to giggle and wipe it away with a napkin._

Misty visions flittered across her gaze as she remembered; she returned late that night, sobs racking her frame and tears dripping from wet eyes. Everything _her _was there; a constant reminded of what had just taken place two hours before.

_ 'Ya'know, we should adopt twins. A boy and a girl. Mary's Shelter seems like they're getting too many children too fast,' _she_ mused, sipping at her beverage. The taller shook her head in bewilderment._

_ 'Kids? I thought you hated th-'_

_ 'Shush! I'd name the boy Ethan. It's a good name, amirite?'_

_ She shook her head again, chuckling. 'I suppose... I'd have to name the girl Ellie then, because it matches. And I've always loved that name.'_

The images of that night would haunt her forever. It didn't help that she herself helped carry the casket, as well as helping lowering it into the ground.

She_ had just gone for spare change from the car, just for the jukebox. One song, _she_ had promised, and they could both leave. One. Song. She watched _her_ leave with a blown kiss and a wink, leaving her to turn red as she waited. She waited a total of three minutes and thirty-eight seconds before she heard the crash. She was out of her seat before the echo faded, lunging out the door and into the too-quiet city air._

_ Bright lights blinded her immediately, and she shielded her eyes with the back of her hand, refusing to stop moving forward until she was forcibly stopped by a man slamming into her. She stayed on her feet, though he collapsed with a groan, clutching his head. Red liquid seeped from his fingers, and she scrambled back, gulping loudly. At least it wasn't raining anymore._

She recalled, vaguely, collapsing at the windowsill later, phone clattering from her hand and onto the ledge; she fell to the ground, heaving for breath as slender fingers clutched the windowsill for dear life. Her lungs hurt, her heart hurt, her everything hurt. This couldn't be happening. Not to her, nor to _her_. This wasn't right. Nothing was. A single thought flickered through her mind, repeated and cycling endlessly; 'Dear God, why did you choose _**her**_?'

_ Breathing deeply, she managed to slither past the man and his blood, but what greeted her wasn't necessarily better; blood pooled across the concrete and the road, tinting everything in an evil red. The source of the light was the small, blue jeep, headlights flicked to bright for whatever reason. The dashboard was splattered with blood, the windshield shattered into uncountable pieces. 'What did he hit?'_

_ Eyes scanned the surrounding area, breath held until her lungs were screaming at her. Behind her, the entirety of _Finer Diner _filled the street; she felt their curious gazes on the back of her head, and continued her search. Her search led her to a small green Toyota, blood stained against it's side. If that was all it hit, why was there so much blood?_

_ Her eyes only had to move a few feet more before she screamed, dropping down to her knees in a mixture of blood and rainwater. Customers rushed to her, holding her hands tightly so she wouldn't hurt herself as she flailed her palms into the asphalt below her; she only shrugged them off and scooted forwards, falling forward onto her hands as she neared _her_, rather what was left of _her_; the entire left side of her body was completely smashed in, ribs poking out and blood seeping steadily from the side._

_ 'I was...going to...pick _'Everytime...We Touch'_, _she_ rasped, face pained in appearance and smile shattered. 'Our song...remember?' She only nodded, grasping onto _her_ hand. 'Sorry...'_

_ She only shook her head, pressing her lips lightly to _her _forehead before turning and screaming bloody murder for someone to call an ambulance._

_ ''s too late,' _she_ coughed. 'I love you.' The other shook her head rapidly, pressing her forehead to the other's. She couldn't speak; if she spoke, she'd shatter immediately._

_ She could almost see the white-cloaked figures floating down from the sky to claim _her_. 'No, not yet. Please, I'm begging you, not yet!'_

_ They stayed like that until paramedics arrived, who had to literally drag her off of _her_. And then she was home._

She remembered the phone ringing; she'd always remember that phone ringing. She knew before she answered what the verdict was. '_She's_ dead. They was no way _she _would've survived. _She_ died not even halfway to the hospital. I'm sorry, but _she's_ never coming home,' the voice murmured, and she had the strength to hang up before she curled up in pain, her soul being brutally ripped from her body.

Two days passed, and here she was, staring at a gray gravestone while kneeling in mud, covered with a jacket with no owner. Frozen fingers traced over the engraving, bottom lip trembling slightly as she mouthed each word.

"Kagura, come inside. You'll catch your death. I know you miss her, but she wouldn't want you to die as well. Honor her," Sakaki called, placing a hand on her shoulder. Kagura looked up, nodded as she stood.

"Thanks Sakaki. I'll never stop loving her, but you're right. I'll live. Just for her," she rasped, voice rough from misuse and continuous screaming. Sakaki nodded, linking their arms together at the elbow and leading her into the small building off to the side.

**Tomo Takino**

**March 8, 1991 - April 11, 2011**

**A wonderful daughter and an unforgettable lover**

**RIP Wildcat**

Kagura would never, never forget her. She promised.

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><p><strong>AN: **Now, if you didn't catch it, _she_ in plain text, _and _she_ in italic text _are Tomo. Regular 'she' is Kagura. If this story completely sucks, I'm sorry. I did try. I really did. But if you didn't like it, I apologize. But don't flame, people. Geez. Just leave a critic's review, not a flame. If you liked it, please tell me. I haven't done Azu since "Snow" and I'm anxious to see how I did.

I tried to make it mysterious by not saying any names until the end; did it work? Or just make the story suck even more?

On a side note, should I add a second chapter, make it a two-shot? I feel like...adding more sorrow in it. It wasn't sad enough for me. ...that makes me sound psychotic, but oh well. I'll add a poll; vote in the poll, as well as leave it in a review please!

_KittyAttack ~ fading away_


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